Five Minutes to Midnight
by emeraldeyes101
Summary: Collab with Cela Fille. AU. One girl. One night. Things are never what they seem, especially when it's five minutes to midnight.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own the Clique.

A/N: AU. Collab with Cela Fille. Enjoy :)

Five Minutes to Midnight

A girl clad in designer brands strutted down the hallway and 'accidentally' knocked into a classmate, causing the girl's books to topple to the floor. The fallen girl looked up at the person who had knocked her down. Icy blue eyes glared into amber orbs, the tension between the two was almost tangible. One set of eyes was a barrier, which prevented anyone from getting to see what she really felt. The other set of eyes acted as an accessory, flaunting the already present beauty to which the eyes belonged to.

"Gawd, don't be such a klutz. Some people are walking here. LBR," the amber eyed beauty coughed as she passed the blonde in the hallway. After her so-called diss, the whole group broke out into a fit of unnecessary laughter. They were the "A-List," who were the rulers of the social scene at Westchester Preparatory Academy. The group consisted of eight A-list teenagers who had it all- the looks, the style, the money, and the attitude.

They were led by the infamous Massie Block. She was drop dead gorgeous, with her laser-whitened smile, freshly curled brunette extensions, and flashing amber eyes. Her outfits were always runway perfect, and she could insult you to tears faster than you can say "My boots aren't ugly!" Her right hand beta was Alicia Rivera, the disgustingly perfect Spanish beauty, who held the school title of "Gossip Queen." Then there was Dylan Marvil, the self-conscious redhead, whose mother was, yes, _the _Merri-Lee Marvil, talk show host, and "The A-List's" exclusive connection to Hollywood. And lastly, there was Olivia Ryan, your typical pretty, girl-next-door, but she was also the reason dumb blonde jokes were written.

Derek Harrington was the legendary BMOC (big man on campus). His shaggy blonde hair and puppy dog caramel eyes give him all he needs to score any girl he wants. His current girlfriend was Massie Block. He's captain of the school's undefeated soccer team, the Tomahawks. Then there was Josh Hotz, his loyal sidekick, who was the male counterpart of Alicia Rivera- looks wise, with his dark, messy hair, which was always hidden under his ever-present NYY hat, tanned skin, and smoldering mocha colored eyes. Cam Fisher was the sensitive one of the group. His mismatched one-blue-one-green eyes and jet black hair make him one of the hottest guys in school. Last but not least, there's Chris Plovert. Wild, light brown curls sit atop his head, and glasses frame his friendly blue eyes. He's the only guy who actually takes his grades seriously.

Those eight were the most envied kids in the entire grade. Well, who wouldn't envy them? They're popular, good looking, wealthy, and could have any friend they wanted. They were the typical A-listers of your typical high school. Then there were the geeks, wannabees, punks, and the lame protesters. Claire didn't necessarily fit into any of those categories. What do you call a white blonde, ocean blue eyed girl, who cared about her grades, yet had all the potential to be in the popular group, which she hated with a passion. An outsider? A misfit? An individual? Whatever you call it doesn't matter.

Claire sighed as she collected her scattered books: American History, Biology, and "The Odyssey" for English. As Claire bent down, her sugary blonde bangs fell in her face. With one blow, they were flown about. Her dirty blonde friend was close behind her, helping her pick up her books.

"Massie?" Kristen asked, already knowing the answer. Her aqua blue eyes were filled with a mixture of annoyance, pity, and anger. These girls were always picking on Claire, and she had never done anything to them. Literally, nothing, but that could be why they hated her and Kristen. They chose not to acknowledge them like the other girls in the grade.

"Isn't it always," Claire muttered. She was determined not to let Massie get to her. Just because she was one of the only two girls in the grade who didn't worship Massie, the other being Kristen, Massie had made it her personal goal to make Claire's life miserable. Claire stood up and began making her way down the hallway. Kristen followed her as she toyed with the zipper on her comfy Puma track jacket. Claire opened her mouth to say something, but the P.A. system interrupted. The speakers broadcasted one of the most hated voices in the entire school.

"Will all of the students please proceed to the auditorium? We have an important announcement. I repeat, will all of the students please proceed to the auditorium," Principle Burns called.

The two girls threw each other confused looks, but joined the crowd and began shuffling towards the auditorium. On their way they passed Massie and her minions, who were obviously planning on coming in late. It was their way of sort of making an entrance. Claire muffled a giggle by clamping her hand over her mouth.

Kristen rolled her eyes and dragged her friend into the auditorium that was filling up quickly. As soon as everyone was situated, Principal Burns emerged on the wooden stage. She waltzed up to the charcoal colored microphone, pulled out a few index cards, and cleared her throat.

"Now, I guess you all are wondering why I called you all here," she began, "Well, as you all know the Winter formal is just two/three weeks away. Now, due to some complaints from the parents we are making a few changes to how you get dates to the dance," she took a breath. This comment earned boo's and what's! "Silence! Now, In order to attend this upcoming dance you must enroll in the online perfect match system that our tech producers have set up. You will answer a series of questions, and then the computer will pair you up with you so called perfect match. If you want to get into the dance, you must be able to give the school your code that you received after you finished your 'personality quiz.' Also, attending this festivity with your date that the computer paired you with is mandatory. We believe that this program will help make our school dances better and contain a more school-friendly atmosphere. Thank you," she turned her back and stalked off.

The reaction from the audience varied. Some were happy, some didn't care, some were annoyed, and some people, like Massie Block, were enraged.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, not ours.

A/N: Second chapter time.

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"This is so stupid," Kristen declared as the two friends exited the auditorium, slowed by the huge throng of students around them. "Any idiot can get their own date to a school dance. Who says you need a date for a dance, anyway?"

Claire shrugged and absently tugged at her overgrown bangs.

"I dunno. It could be fun."

"So you're going to do it, then?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"CLAIRE! KRISTEN! Wait up!"

The two girls turned to see a tall, tanned boy shove through the crowd and grab their thin wrists. He looked flushed, like he had run a marathon, and his caramel blonde curls hung in his startling bottle green eyes.

"Hey Dempsey," Claire greeted, punching his toned, muscular shoulder. "What's up?"  
Dempsey Solomon was, in Claire's opinion, one of the only guys worth talking to at WPA. He used to be rather heavy and a "drama geek", earning him the nickname 'Humpty Dempsey" by Massie Block. But, after returning from his trip to Africa during the summer, where he helped his parents rebuild houses, he came back looking GORGEOUS- and was even on the coveted "HART list" written by the girls of the A-list group. But even though his hair and body had improved, he had kept his sweet demeanor.

"Eh. Not much," he shrugged and slung an arm over both Kristen and Claire's shoulders. "God, this is getting insane. Parents are really desperate to get their kids out of the house if _this _is what the school's come to."

"Tell me about it," Kristen said immediately, and blushed slightly at Claire's knowing smirk. It was no secret that Kristen liked Dempsey. Actually, everyone in the school seemed to know it- with the exception of Dempsey, of course.

"The first dance I feel comfortable enough to go to, and I don't even have the freedom of choice to ask the person I want? What has the world come to?" he shouted dramatically. Claire and Kristen giggled and smacked his shoulder.

"Well," Claire shrugged, "You have to take a survey, so you'll get matched up with someone who has similar interests and personality. Since you're sweet, kind, and friendly, you probably _won't,_" she scrunched up her nose in a disgusted manner, "get matched up with someone like Massie Block. Ugh."

"Oh. My. God. I just had the best idea!" Kristen squealed, then lowered her voice when people began to stare. "Okay Dempsey, how about, since you want someone to be comfortable around, you and either me or Claire take the personality quiz at the same time! So, then, we can put in answers that will automatically put us together!"

"Brilliant!" Dempsey grinned lopsidedly and Kristen beamed.

"I dunno, Kris," Claire said skeptically. "Isn't that totally missing the point of the match system?"

"Suit yourself," Kristen shrugged, but looked a bit too pleased. "So, Demps, you and me?"

"Heck yeah!" he tried to high five her with his left hand, and failed. "Damn, I still can't do it! Hold on," he raised his right hand and slapped it to Kristen's.

"Cool!" Kristen smiled, and the three of them made their way to Homeroom, where everyone was buzzing about the latest announcement. They took their seats in the middle of the classroom and waited expectantly as a young, flustered man stumbled into the room, and waved his hands, signaling silence.

"Hello class. I'm sure you heard the announcement about our principal's decision to match you up for the upcoming school dance."

"It sucks!" a boy shouted from the back of the room, and most of the class nodded and muttered in agreement.

"Settle down, settle down," Mr. Tyrell said in a tired, but firm voice. When everyone was quiet, he spoke again. "Now, the school wants to ensure that everyone takes this personality survey. So, I'd like you all to come up here, grab a laptop from the cart and log in. I'm writing the website up on the board, and all of you will take the quiz. Right now."

The class grumbled, but got up and took a laptop back to their desks. Claire logged on, and went to the school website, and clicked a tab marked "Dance Survey". There was an enormous list of questions, ranging from age to music preferences to hobbies to favorite food. She groaned quietly and began to fill it out.

**Name:** Claire Lyons  
**Grade:** 10

"Mr. Tyrell!" Dempsey shouted. "This is such a screwed up test! They ask for your physical appearance! That's practically racist! How can they do something like that? So, they're choosing your date according to how good you _look _with them? I protest!" The teacher sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Mr. Solomon, it's just part of the quiz. Please be quiet and finish the survey."

Dempsey swore under his breath and went back to his survey. Claire found the physical appearance section and began to fill it out.

**Physical Appearance**: 5'3''. White blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin.

"Mr. Tyrell?" Kristen asked, raising her hand. "So, if we have, like, the same answers as someone else on the survey, we'd be more likely to get them as a date, right?"

"Not necessarily, Ms. Gregory. The system won't always match you up with someone with the same exact interests. Sometimes, they do the whole 'opposites attract' type of thing."

Kristen frowned and began typing again, while Claire giggled. Obviously Kristen had counted on getting 

Dempsey as a date. Now, she couldn't be too sure.

**Hobbies:** Photography, swimming, water color painting, reading, writing, and mountain biking.

**Favorite food:** Chocolate ice cream

And for the rest of the 45 minute block, Claire filled out the survey and clicked send. A small window popped up.

"Thank you for completing the survey. Your code will be given to you on Saturday, December 15th."

Claire frowned suddenly and raised her hand.

"Mr. Tyrell, why do we have to wait until the day of the dance to get our code?"

"Well, the school doesn't want to take any chances with students skipping the dance based on who their date is," he answered delicately.

"Meaning," a girl hissed behind Claire. She turned to see Massie leaning forward in her seat, a malicious glint in her eye. "The school doesn't want the poor sucker with the misfortune of getting _you _as a date to runaway or commit suicide before the dance."

Claire opened her mouth to retort, but the bell rang, and everyone began packing up for their next class. Massie smirked and shoved everything in her purple and gold Juicy Couture messenger bag before flipping her reflective hair over her shoulder.

"Later, LBR."

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If you hadn't figured it out yet, we don't own it.

AN: Thanks so much for the awesome reviews. Well, here's chapter three. Enjoy.

* * *

Four good looking boys trudged out of the auditorium. They were hoping that the assembly would last longer so they could waste more class time. Much to their displeasure, the assembly ended ahead of schedule, so they were to proceed to their bell two class. Cam Fisher veered to the left with Chris Plovert; taking the long way to their Government class. They claimed they needed to stop at their lockers, but the real reason was so they could avoid the complaints of their leader, leaving Josh Hotz to deal with him.

Josh lifted off his navy New York Yankees hat, shook his head, and then settled the cap back in its regular position. Removing his hat had created a minor distraction for Derek, who looked at him for a moment, but then continued to badger about what had annoyed him this time. He was so sick of hearing Derek go on and on about how this personality test thing was stupid, and that so many girls would be upset when they didn't get matched up with him. The sad part was that they had just found out about the test about four minutes ago. Derek was his best friend, but come on; talking about how great you and how many girls wants you are gets old. Fast.

"Why should _I_ have to take a stupid test like this?" Derek muttered for what seemed like the thousandth time, "I can get a date, like that!" and snapped his fingers. His eyes set on the classroom that was just a few steps away, occasionally drifting to the bodies of the cheerleaders who were gawking at him. He smirked in victory, and waited for Josh to reply.

"I don't know, but you have to take it if you want to go to the dance," Josh reminded him. Josh personally didn't mind having to do the test. Finding someone who shared the same interests as him could be fun; he was sick of getting bunched with Alicia when Massie and Derrick wanted to double. Just because they looked alike didn't mean that they would hit it off, which they didn't. The girl could also try to make her obvious crush on him a little more subtle. Girls- especially ones like Alicia Rivera- falling all over him really gets annoying sometimes.

"The dances aren't even fun. I'm just not even going to take this gay test," Derek decided as he strode into the abnormally cold classroom, taking his usual seat in the back. Defying the school and not taking the quiz would totally up his rep as school 'bad boy.'

"I would strongly suggest that you take it," his best friend commented while following him into the room.

"Why would you say something like that?" Derek was obviously annoyed that Josh hadn't backed him up and agreed on his decision to not take the test. Like most popular people, Derek didn't like being singled out.

"First this is _the _Winter Formal, and the another reason is that Massie would kill you if you didn't go. She'd be scared it'd kill her reputation or something. I think she'd think that it'd look like you were standing her up even though you weren't her date. Yeah, that was it," Josh rolled his mocha colored eyes; acting like it was blatantly obvious, which it pretty much was. Derek sat down while he processed this information.

"Oh, yeah, forgot about her for a second," he paused, as if weighing the pros and cons, "Whatever, I'll take the stupid quiz," Derek sighed. He got out a green mechanical pencil 

and began tapping it on the desk. He started thinking, and then stopped the tapping, when a crooked grin was plastered on his face.

"D, what are you thinking?"

"I might as well give some random chick the dream of getting to attend the dance with me. I hope she just doesn't scream when she finds out," Derek continued smiling. If his ego got any bigger, his head would probably explode. His grin faded when the teacher finally walked in. He could spot her gray, secretary bun and yellow glasses from a mile away. Ms. Conrad wasn't exactly Derek's favorite teacher, or anyone's for that matter.

"Now class," her unusually raspy voice started, "I'm sure you all know that the school is requiring all of the students who would like to be present at this formal occasion to complete an online personality quiz. I have been instructed by your Principal to ask all of you to partake the quiz this bell," she finished and lifted her eyes up to look around, just in case anyone had any questions. She raised a frail arm and pointed to a short, auburn haired kid in the front. "Yes, Karla?"

"Um... uh, never mind," the girl stuttered.

"Okay. Now, in an orderly fashion please come forward and take a laptop. As you can see the web address is up on the board," she was soon stampeded by a mob of teenagers, each searching for a computer. Derek easily glided to the front of the line, thanks to a few girls who allowed him to cut in front of them, and got out a silver HP Pavilion laptop with the number seven on it. He always got number seven; it was his soccer number. He winked at one of the girls who allowed him to cut on the way to the back of the room, which caused her to gasp and begin fanning her face. He chuckled, secretly loving the effect he had on most girls.

Derek reached his desk, powered on the computer, signed on, and typed in the URL.

**Name: **Derek Harrington

**Grade: **10

**Appearance: **dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and ripped muscles. 5'8". Basically, I'm hot.

**Hobbies: **Soccer, paintball, video games, girls, and partying.

_What is your opinion on popularity? _He craned his neck to see what Josh had put, but he couldn't see. Josh was pounding away at the keys quickly, and he had positioned the laptop so Derrick couldn't possibly glimpse at it. _Hmm, my opinion on popularity? _A few moments passed. _Oh! I got it. That's an easy one._

**What is your opinion on popularity?: **Dude, I am the definition of popularity. If you look up popularity in the dictionary you'll see a picture of me.

**Favorite Food:** Pizza

Derek sped through all of the questions, and he was overcome with relief when he clicked the send button. A loud noise pealed from his computer, which sounded like wind chimes. The whole class turned to him. Guess he was the first one finished. Before his face could redden, he smacked Josh on the arm, and 'scolded' him. Josh turned at Derek with annoyed eyes, but then returned them to the bright, LCD screen.

**Name:** Joshua Hotz

**Grade:** 10

**Appearance:** 5'9. Brown eyes, darkish brown hair, and tan skin.

**Hobbies:** Soccer, hanging with friends, rock climbing, and listening to music.

Josh scrolled through his answers one last time; too make sure he answered them all. After confirming that he did, he placed the cursor on the send button and pressed send, but not before turning the volume down on mute. Before ex-ing out, he noticed that the 'code' that Burns had talked about wasn't going to be revealed until the day of the dance. He assumed it was so no one could back out when they found out who their dates were. stifled a chuckle when he noticed Derrick playing some childish game on his computer.

"Ms. Conrad, how come we don't get our code thingies until the night of the dance?"

"Ah, Heather, the school doesn't want anyone refusing to attend if they are unhappy with the turnout of the quiz," Ms. Conrad replied flatly. Heather nodded her head in thanks and went on chatting with Layne.

After putting his laptop away, the bell rang, signaling the class to leave the room and go to lunch. He jammed his books under his arms and followed Derrick out.

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: We're planning on buying one of those purple computers, the ones that let you do whatever you want. Only then we will be able to say we own the Clique. But, as of right now, we don't own it. : (

AN: Eeep. Sorry for the wait my friends. Anywhoo, without any further delay……Chapter 4!!

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One week later...

Claire gnawed away at her already stubby nails, silently willing the clock to go faster. _Come on... Come on... _But it didn't listen. Sighing, she picked up her green ink pen and began to doodle aimlessly on the edge of her math worksheet. Butterfly. Random Blob. Massie with horns, buckteeth, and a pitchfork. While Mr. Greene droned on and on about the difference between the Side-Angle-Side property and the Angle-Side-Angle property she zoned out, and her thoughts came upon the Winter Formal. Wasn't it on every girls' mind? Kristen had insisted that they go shopping together for dresses the previous weekend. She was never the shopping type. Nah, she'd choose comfy jeans, a hoodie, and Keds any day. But she bit back a smile when she thought about the gorgeous teal silk babydoll dress she had gotten from Nordstrom. It had been, in her opinion, way overpriced, but both Kristen and her mother had insisted that she buy it. Suddenly, she felt something light hit her foot and looked down to see a crumpled piece of lined paper. Craning her neck, she saw Kristen listening to the lecture intently, but smirking. Discreetly yawning, Claire bent down and unfolded the note in her lap.

_God, this is boring. Anyway, thinking about the dance? Maybe you'll meet your Prince Charming )_Claire giggled and hastily slapped her palm over her mouth before her teacher saw her. Quickly, she scribbled back,

_Of course I am. But I'd never meet Prince Charming. It's not like I'm Cinderella or something._She crumpled the note, dropped it onto the floor, and kicked it softly so it would slide directly under Kristen's seat, two rows ahead. She watched as Kristen read the note, and suddenly, the bell rang, saving them from the monotony of her math teacher's lecture. Shoving her papers and binder into her Jansport bag, she ran up to her friend.

"What do you mean you're not like Cinderella?" Kristen whispered as they exited the room to go to lunch. "You're sweet, pretty, and probably will be the belle of the ball when you come wearing that hot dress we got last week."

Claire blushed slightly from the compliments, and quickly replied. "Yeah, well, when you come wearing that gorgeous as hell halter dress, Dempsey won't be able to keep his eyes off you," she smirked at Kristen's flushed cheeks, when an arm wrapped around both their waists.

"What about me?" Dempsey asked grinning, his dimples more visible than ever as each and every one of his straight, iPod-white teeth shone.

"Nothing," Kristen blurted quickly. Claire quirked an eyebrow while Dempsey looked confusedly at both their faces.

"Okey, dokey," he replied, shrugging, "Let's go to lunch."

--

"Dude, are you sure about this?" Cam asked nervously; his mismatched eyes darting to the door every few seconds. He leaned against the wall, trying to look bored, but his endless tapping foot betrayed his apprehension. A muffled sound came from the closet. Josh and Cam watched as their friend slash leader emerged, a triumphant look on his face.

"I got it," he declared, slamming the fat binder onto the principal's wooden desk.

"Derek! Keep it down! The freaking principal could come back in!" Josh snapped, glancing at the closed door with a hint of worry in his warm, chocolate colored eyes.

Derek rolled his eyes and stroked his hand tantalizingly slow across the cover.

"You guys are such wusses. Now, do you want to see who your date is for the dance or not?"His two friends quickly shuffled over to the desk, eagerness visible on their faces. Derek quickly rustled through the pages, trying to find his own name, but coming up with Josh's instead.

"Massie?" Josh sounded horrified as he leaned over the papers to read them. "No freaking way. You have got to be kidding me! Is this a joke?"

Derek tried to hide the smirk that was crossing his face. Great. Finally someone _else _could deal with Massie and her pathetically bitchy ways. Before he could turn the page to find his own date, Cam snatched the binder out of his hands and rifled through the pages feverishly, his eyes traveling down the page to find his date. When he stopped, his smiled slightly.

"Kristen Gregory," he said finally. "She's the captain of the girls' soccer team, yeah? Sweet," a small smile worked its way across his face.

Derek yanked the binder away from Cam and began to flip through the pages again, his irritation rising.

_Goslen, Grainsley, Gweneth, Hamilton, Harrington._He scanned the page. And there, in tiny letters, was the name of his date.

Claire Lyons.

Huh.

--

Derek walked casually into his Biology classroom, unusually quiet, his eyes scoping the room for this Claire Lyons. He was sure she was in this class... even though he hadn't given her a second look from the first day of school. He smirked slightly as the brunette in front of him gasped and dropped her heavy pile of books onto the tile floor when she caught him 'looking at her'. Sidestepping her, he scanned the room, finally noticing a petite blonde girl sitting alone at a lab table by the fish tanks near the back of the room. Sliding over to her, he dropped his bag down in a satisfyingly loud way onto the empty seat beside her, waiting for a reaction. Gasp, squeal of delight, nervous spluttering, anything.

Instead, she glared at him and turned away with a soft huff. _What?_ Shaking his head, causing his shaggy blonde hair to fall into his eyes, he took a seat beside her and shot her a winning smile. The one that made anything with two X chromosomes feel weak in the knees.

"Hey," he greeted in a deep, and what he thought to be a seductive voice. _That should do it. Wait. Why wasn't she reacting?_ If anything, she inched her chair away from his and looked away resolutely. What the hell? "I'm Derek Harrington," he tried again, giving her a cocky half-smile that said, 'Yeah, I know you think I'm hot'.

"I know," she replied through gritted teeth, still not looking at him. Ignoring her tone, he smirked again. Of course she knew him. He _was _the hottest guy in school after all. "You're the self-centered asshole who's dating that total bitch, Massie Block," she added, an angry look on her face. Again, he chose to ignore the evident jab she implied when she called him a 'self centered asshole'. Probably playing hard to get. Not 

what most girls did, but that's okay. Derek always liked a challenge. They'd fall for him one way or another.

This Claire girl was pretty hot. In a punk-ish style way. Her white blonde hair was clipped up in a messy bun, with her overly long side bangs hanging in her icy blue eyes. She was thin too, and was dressed casually in tight, distressed gray skinny jeans, a baby blue and gray striped racer back tank, and navy Converse. Different, but hot all the same. But she was a girl. And all girls, punk or not, fell for Derek Harrington sooner or later.

"You sound jealous," he whispered with his ever-present smirk, even though class hadn't started. She gave a disgusted scoff.

"Jealous? Yeah right. Why would _I _be jealous of a designer-obsessed ditz who doesn't have anything better to do than curl her eyelashes and torment people who don't worship her?"

Derek blinked. He knew he had seen this girl somewhere. She was the one Massie had tripped in the hallway before the assembly a week ago. Actually, she picked on her a lot.

"And you!" she continued, a fiery glare in her eyes as she swiveled in her chair to face him. "You are an egoistic loser who thinks he's all that just because you have girls falling all over you and are the captain of the soccer team. Well, here's a newsflash! You're not!"

Derek quickly grabbed her arm to stop her from talking. They were beginning to attract some strange looks from the people around them, and he did not want everyone to be gossiping about the girl who -gasp- dissed Derek Harrington.

"Let go of me!" she hissed, yanking her arm away, looking completely disgusted. He smirked again, thinking of a way to regain back some of his dignity.

"Oh," he said in an overly apologetic way. "Sorry. I guess my strength was a bit too much to handle. I usually try not to hurt girls."

"Male chauvinist pig," Derek heard her mumble under her breath as she turned to front of the classroom where the class had just begun. Derek didn't exactly know what that meant, but her tone and the word 'pig' in the phrase gave him the idea that it wasn't complimentary. But there was something that confused him far more than her weird insults. What was wrong with this girl? Who in their right mind would turn down Derek Harrington?

--

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	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own.

AN: Sorry about the shortness of this one. Well, I'll just stop typing so you all can read the chapter. Hehe, chapter five of Five Minutes to Midnight. Too bad this chapter isn't all that great. Sorry. It's also kind of a filler chapter. :( We hope you guys like it anway...

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Claire had focused all of her attention on the chalky blackboard during class. She refused to spare the self-obsessed jerk to her side another glance, but not before noticing that he had looked a little peeved at her reaction to him. She hastily shook her head, reminding herself that she had already wasted enough brain cells on that _thing_ that sat next to her. As she exited the door, she felt a pair of eyes burning into her back but shrugged it off; it was probably just some Massie-wannabee 'rating' her non designer outfit. She couldn't shake the feeling, so she speed-walked to her red metal locker. In one swift motion, she managed to stuff all of her un-needed books and binders inside her locker while sliding the necessary ones into her Jansport bag. Suddenly, she felt added pressure on her pale face; a pair of hands had covered her blue eyes. She tensed at the touch, but then relaxed when she heard the voice.

"Guess who," a too deep to be natural voice teased. If her eyes hadn't been covered, the fact that she had rolled them would have become obvious.

"Hmm, I wonder," Claire sing-songed as she raised a finger to her chin as if pretending to think. "Could it be Dempsey?"

"Aw, I thought I had you this time," he complained, unable to hide the blooming smile on his face.

"Nice try, Demps," Claire smiled as she started walking. Dempsey followed her in the direction of the exit, placing his hands on her shoulders from behind her and directing her small frame. "Dempsey?"

"Yes?" he asked.

"May I ask you what you're doing?"

"My dear Claire, I was simply trying to escort you off the premises. Is that a problem?" his striking green eyes sparkled with entertainment.

"No, it's not," she sighed as he continued to maneuver her around the masses of students. She stopped randomly and began to look over her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Dempsey gazed over his much taller shoulder to see if anything was worth looking at.

"I don't know, I just feel like someone's watching me, and I thought I heard the Mission Impossible theme song," she paused for a brief moment. "Eh, it's probably nothing. Come on, let's go," she started up her path again. The two walked outside the over-priced school and into the carpool lane. They split up here when Dempsey moved over to the silver Volvo, unlocked the doors, started up the car, and drove away, but not before flailing an arm out the window to wave goodbye to Claire.

She chuckled and shook her head at his childish ways. The time on her watch said fifteen after three, so that meant only about five more minutes until Kristen would get out of gym. The stupid, old coach always released the kids five minutes late, so having to shower and or change, Kristen usually got out of the building around three twentyish.

Right on schedule, a toned, athletic-looking girl scurried out of the school. She searched the lawn, and stopped when her eyes landed on Claire.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hi Kris," Claire gathered up her stuff and began walking with her friend. The two usually walked home together- it was a time to catch up and talk.

"Let's pick up the pace on our walk home, 'kay? We have that bio worksheet and I need to finish my AP English essay," the dirty blonde rambled.

"Okay, that's fine with me. Let's get going," the pair exchanged nods and began jogging down the cement sidewalk in the direction of the Lyons' household.

Derek Harrington stealthily walked out of the room, avoiding being seen by any of the students. He had his mind set on one thing and one thing alone: Figure out Claire Lyons. He rolled his eyes at the stupidity of the situation. Since when was he, Derek Harrington, going through all this trouble to figure out a girl? Usually it was the girls that were hiding behind trashcans and lockers to sneak glances at him and his awesomeness, but then again, Derek Harrington had never been told off by anyone much less a girl.

He positioned himself on the edge of the stairwell that ended, luckily, just around her locker. Some random math weenie tripped and knocked into Derek, making a commotion. Derek quickly distanced himself from the kid, sent him a glare, brushed off his navy blue t-shirt, and went on looking. She was alone, and she was skillfully placing books inside her book bag. Derek cocked his head in annoyance when none other than 'Humpty Dempsey' Solomon snuck up to her, and placed his hands over her bright, blue eyes.

_What the heck is Dempsey freaking Solomon doing over there? _Then he smirked. _This kid is so going to get it. If she doesn't like guys like me, she'll probably scream when he touches her. Haha, this should be funny. When she yells, I could come to the rescue. Super Derek! What.The. Hell. Why the hell is she laughing? What is up with this chick? How can someone refuse to talk to someone me, and make jokes with a post drama freak? _The thoughts were racing through Derek's small, underused brain as fast as they could possibly be. He eyed them annoyingly as Dempsey placed his hands on her shoulders and lead her away.

Derek, feeling more spy-ish then usual, began humming the tune to Mission Impossible. _The name's Harrington, Derek Harrington. _He followed the two unnoticed and began closing in on them. His excitement got the better of him and he started humming louder and louder as he got closer and closer. Claire and Dempsey looked over their shoulders in Derek's direction. _That was too close. Whatever, this girl is so not worth it. By the time of the dance, she'll be begging me to talk to her. _The fact that Derek had soccer practice didn't stop him from staying and spying on her, pft, no not at all.

--

"Wait, so if both of your parents are heterozygous you can still be homozygous?" Claire questioned, flinging her pencil at the wall in frustration.

"Yes, Claire, I've already gone over this," Kristen muttered. She got annoyed when people's brain couldn't work as fast as her freakishly smart one.

"Can we please take a break? I've crammed more stuff about genes into my head tonight than I ever wanted to all semester."

"Fine, we can take a break, but after that, we are finishing the worksheet," Kristen agreed, but not before she was reassured that they would finish their homework.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Claire had already hopped up and laid on her baby blue comforter.

"Claire! You know that if I don't finish my homework than my mom won't let me come over here after school anymore."

"Kris, calm down, I said yeah," she smirked.

"Okay," Kristen darted into Claire's closet. "Claire Bear! This dress is seriously just the best dress ever. You are going to be breaking some hearts the night of the dance," Kristen held up the soft sapphire colored babydoll dress and twirled around with it. Claire glared at her use of her mom's nick name for her.

"Fine, Ki-ki boo," she paused for emphasis. "If you like it so much, why don't you wear it?"

"Don't call me that," she huffed, frowning. "Besides I could never take something like this from its destined wearer. So?" Now Kristen was sitting cross-legged next to Claire on her queen sized bed.

"So?"

"Who do you think you'll get matched up with?"

"Um, I don't know. I haven't really thought about that," she replied truthfully.

"Oh come on, you're telling me that you haven't given who your date is going to be the least bit of thought?"

"That's what I'm telling ya. As long as I don't get paired up with someone like Derek Harrington, I'm fine," she shrugged. "Not all of us cheated on the survey to get matched up with the boy we love."

"Shut up! Could you talk a little quieter? Someone might hear you," Kristen warned Claire. She subconsciously scanned the room to make sure no one had heard her.

"Oh sorry," she muttered sarcastically.

"Thanks," Kristen grinned.

"Kristen Gregory loves Dempsey Solomon!" Claire shouted at the top of her lungs. Less than three seconds later her face came in contact with one of her pillows.

"Claire!"

-

Review?


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Eep. So sorry guys, but this is another fillerish chapter. : ( Sorryyy. We promise promise promise the next chapter will be the dance, kay? Ooh, also sorry about the shortiness of this chapter. Just wanted to have them getting ready for it and all. Now, before I give too much away, here's chapter six. Enjoy.

-

Claire Lyons slid on her dark blue baby doll dress as she waited for her best friend to come out of her bathroom. She spun around in front of the full length mirror, biting her lip at her reflection. She rolled her shoulders back, then went back to lounging on the bed. A few minutes passed, and Kristen had not yet come out of the bathroom. Claire jumped up from the bed and began to knock on the white, painted wooden door.

"Kristen, you've been in there for a while now! It's time to come out," she called, hoping that her friend would be able to hear through the door.

"No, I don't want to come out," Kristen huffed.

"Come on, I need someone to help me with my make-up," Claire vigorously shook the doorknob, as if that would do anything. Claire could do make-up for regular day-to-day things, but when it came to the glittery and sparkly junk for formal occasions she needed help.

"Get Todd to help you," she spat in response. Kristen, realizing what she had just said, broke out into a fit of laughter. "At least if he does it, it will look better than if you did it."

"Hey," she stopped, and then hopped up and knocked the small, bronze key from the top of the door frame. "You leave me no choice. I'm coming in," Claire shoved the key inside the tiny hole, turned the old door knob, and barged in.

"Be honest, how do I look?" Kristen questioned, obviously afraid of the response.

She was wearing a soft pink halter dress that hugged her soccer-toned curves perfectly. The light, satiny material just brushed her knees and made her legs look infinitely longer than usual. Her dirty-blonde shoulder length hair had been straightened, and the faintest traces of makeup on her face made her aqua eyes pop and thin lips were glossed to perfection.

"You look great, Kris," a genuine smile covered Claire's face.

"Really, you think so?" Kristen frowned at her appearance in the mirror above the porcelain sink.

"I know so," she smirked when Kristen's face turned a light shade of pink.

"Aw, thanks. You look incredible Claire, you really do," Claire nodded her head in thanks and turned around. Her white blonde curls smacking against her face as she did so.

"Kris, come on. We need to get ready," Kristen walked over to the wooden vanity, pushed Claire down in a chair, and began applying various make-up products to her face.

"God Claire quit moving. You're going to make me screw up, oh shoot," Kristen quickly covered a hand over her mouth, mascara wand still present. Her eyes were bulging with a mixture of shock and or the fear of what Claire would do to her when she saw.

"Kristen, what'd you do?" Claire warily shifted her eyes to meet Kristen's who bit her lip in response. Claire altered her gaze so that she was peering into the small, compact mirror.

She could hardly recognize herself. Her silky, white blonde curls were in half-up do, held back with a glittery clip. Her icy blue eyes had been outlined with eyeliner, so it now resembled Disney princesses- huge; and her lips had been covered in a pale, shimmery gloss.

"What? It looks fine," she appeared puzzled.

"Duh! Of course it looks great. I did it, and it's on you," Kristen grinned, proud at her joke. Let's just say that Kristen wasn't exactly the funniest person around, so this 'joke' was one of the better ones. Seriously. After Claire's make-up was finished, Kristen did a last minute check on her hair and they ran downstairs. The two slid on their somewhat different shoes. Claire covered her feet with silver sequined flats while Kristen sported pale gold, three-inch heels.

The girls twisted the knob on the door that lead to the four car garage. Scanning at each of the cars, they decided to pile inside the small, silver Volvo. Taking the convertible was a serious no-no, they were not going to screw up their hair. The hair that they washed, blow dried, curled, and styled to perfection, not a chance. Even though in every movie that contains a dance; the hot guy drives his date in his convertible, and her hair _never _gets screwed up.

They remained relatively quiet throughout the car ride. Each mind was racing with who they thought their date would be, or who they didn't want their date to be. The fifteen minute drive seemed exceptionally short today when they drove in front of the school. Eyeing for a parking spot, Claire maneuvered the car around the lot. Eventually she found one, and the two of them slowly shuffled out of the car. As they neared the building, the loud pumping music could easily be heard.

Pushing open the heavy doors, they encountered bunches of students waiting in line to receive their code. Which we all know will lead them to whoever their date may be. Claire could barely see into the gymnasium. Of what she could see, she knew that there was white everywhere, but that was expected, for it is _the_ Winter Formal. She also noted that few people were already in the gym. The chaos outside of it could be the cause of that.

"Kris," Claire pointed her finger to the line around the table where they were passing out the codes. "Let's go." Kristen and Claire navigated their way through the crowd, received their four digit codes, and backed away. Well, they were more like shoved out of the way.

"No what do we do?" Kristen scanned the hallway, hoping she would lock eyes with her date, and he would suddenly know it was her.

"It's quite simple actually. We wait," Claire tapped her heel-clad foot with impatience and nervousness as she waited for her date to show up.

"Uh, hey," a much too familiar voice said behind her. She turned to see Derek Harrington, holding a single soft pink rose with a sheepish look on his face.

"YOU?" she screeched.

-

Review?


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I think we've done one of these already, but it's been a really long time, so we figured we might as well say it again. We don't own the Clique.

Authors Note: Yup, it's true! Five Minutes to Midnight is officially up and running again. :) Took us long enough, right? We're sooooooooooooooooooo sorry for the super (times a hundred!) long wait. Updates will not be as frequent as you may like, but don't worry, this story is being continued.

--

"No way," she muttered under her breath. "No flipping way."

Turning abruptly from the bewildered boy in front of her, she stomped over to the crowded table where people were still trying to get their codes. Not bothering to be courteous, she shoved a few girls in low-cut, ruffled dresses over, and gave a sweet smile to the old man in front of her.

"Hi !"

"Hello Claire," He gave her a confused smile. "I thought you already got your code."

"Oh, I did," She began to twist one of her perfect curls with her finger. "But," She lowered her voice and leaned in conspiratorially, "You see, I believe there might have been a mistake. So, I was just wondering if maybe, as my favorite teacher, you could go through the files and check who my date is?"

"Of course," he whispered in response, and began to flip through the pages slowly. Claire smiled back, but began to tap her flat clad foot impatiently. "Ah yes," he said finally. "You have Mr. Derek Harrington."

"Ugh!" she stomped her foot in annoyance and shoved through the crowd, not bothering to thank him. Suddenly, an arm reached out and grabbed her. "Let go of me!" she hissed, but turned to see a shocked Dempsey instead of Derek. "Oh, sorry Dempsey," she apologized. Dempsey had really fixed up for the night. He was wearing a classic tux that looked great on his well defined muscles and his caramel hair was shaggy and hung in his eyes.

"Wow Claire, you look great," He smiled, his eyes traveling up and down her body appreciatively.

"Almost like a girl." he added, grinning. Claire smacked his arm but giggled.

"Aw, thanks Demps! And you, for once, don't look like you climbed out of a trash can! Good for you!"

Dempsey rolled his eyes, and leaned in. "Look, I just found out my date is Dylan Marvil. Dude, I though I was going to get Kristen! This sucks!"

"Well, it appears that Dylan's looking for you." Claire nodded to the tall redhead in the thicket of students. "And what? Do you like Kristen or something?" She raised her eyebrows curiously.

"Um-" Before he could finish, the slightly chubby redhead appeared and slithered a bangle covered arm around Dempsey's waist.

"Hi Demple!" She crooned, giving him a saccharine-sweet smile. "Are you ready to go inside?" Dempsey winced at his new nickname and stiffly nodded. Dylan smiled, then turned to Claire. Her narrowed, jade eyes looked Claire up and down with a hint of sour jealousy. "I'm sure you can finish your conversation with your little friend later," She huffed and dragged him through the crowd into the dance hall. Dempsey gave Claire a pleading look, but she simply giggled and waggled her fingers.

"Have fun!"

She watched Dylan practically drag him into the gymnasium and frowned when she remembered she had her own date to get back to. Sighing, she walked slowly through the crowd, and once again, was pulled aside.

"Claire!" Kristen asked, her voice out of breath. "Have you seen Dempsey?"

"Yeah, he just went in with Dylan Marvil. She's his date."

Kristen swore under her breath then glanced over her shoulder.

"She better keep her hands off him..."

"Already acting like the jealous girlfriend?"

"Oh, shut up. Look, my date is Cam Fisher. You know, the soccer player?"

"Well that's good. He's cute, and he isn't an ass like Harrington." She curled her fingers into a fist when she said his name. Kristen frowned, forming crease marks in between her eyes.

"You know, he doesn't seem all that bad…" She trailed off seeing Claire's murderous expression.

"Ha!" Claire scoffed. "Yeah right. You're just saying that because you had a crush on him before Dempsey left for Africa,"

Kristen's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she looked down.

"Whatever. But, just letting you know, he's looking for you right now,"

"Oh joy," She snapped sarcastically.

"Gee, thanks,"

She turned to see Derek staring at the ground, barely a few inches behind her.

"Whatever," Claire crossed her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Are you ready to go or what?"

"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled and turned to walk to the dance room. Claire sighed, gave Kristen a final, weary smile and followed him. When they entered the room, Claire immediately began coughing from the smoke that was coming from all direction. The room was dark, and multicolored strobe lights flashed in different directions. Everyone was grinding like they were in a rap music video and the heavy scent of expensive perfume and sweat polluted the air.

"Are those smoke machines?" she coughed, covering her nose. Placing her silver sequined clutch on the table cloth draped over the snack table, she inhaled slowly, regaining her breath. Derek looked equally confused.

"I don't know. I guess so…"

"Figures," she muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, glaring at her.

"Um, let me think," She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, I know! Maybe because you don't know anything!"

Derek opened his mouth to retort but Claire raised a palm.

"Save it. I've lost enough brain cells already."

"Why are you so mean to me?" he whined, sounding like a preschooler throwing a tantrum.

"Maybe because you ask for it."

"Um, no I don't," He furrowed his golden brow, sounding confused. Claire simply rolled her eyes. "So, are we going to dance or what?" he asked, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his pants.

The question threw her off guard.

"What?"

"Come on." Derek sounded exasperated. "You can't expect us to just stand here like losers for the rest of the dance. That's just lame."

"But- fine."

It was awkward, to say the least. The two of them stepped onto the dance floor just as the song "Don't Want To Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith came on. Claire noticed Derek, along with the rest of the male population at the dance groan, but nevertheless, his hands went directly to her waist and held tight. Claire bit her lip and tried to ignore the sudden fluttering in her stomach.

They are not butterflies! Claire tried to convince herself. I'm just... nervous.

Tentatively, her thin arms wrapped around Derek's neck. He didn't seem nearly as nervous as she did.

_I could stay awake just to hear you breathing_

_Watch you smile while you are sleeping_

_While you're far away dreaming_

_I could spend my life in this sweet surrender_

_I could stay lost in this moment forever_

_Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure_

She looked down at her glittering flats, Dempsey dancing with Dylan, the spilled punch on the ground a few feet away anything but Derek's face. She wasn't sure what it was that made her so uneasy, but finally, she managed to raise her icy blue eyes to Derek's warm caramel ones.

His expression made her scared. He was staring at her, his gaze unwavering. There was a guarded look in eyes, like he didn't want her to see what he was thinking, but his gaze was so penetrating, she felt as though he could read her mind.

"Stop that," she murmured without thinking.

"Stop what?" he replied, his voice quieter than usual, and the normal flirtatious demeanor gone.

"Looking at me like that," she whispered, breaking eye contact.

Derek rolled his eyes and the moment was over. It made Claire both relieved and disappointed. The song continued, and a shiver went down her spine as his hand touched her arm.

"Claire," Derek began, "I know this is going to sound weird, but-"

"DEH-RICK!!" They both winced and turned to the source of the shout. A brunette girl, whose loose, silky violet minidress clung to her bony body, stomped toward them in her five inch, strappy heels. Her amber eyes were blazing with anger and her blood red lips were curled into a sneer.

"Derek," she began in a low, menacing voice, "What the hell are you doing with that LBR?"

"Dancing," he deadpanned. "She was my assigned date."

"Well," Massie's heavily shadowed eyes looked Claire up and down vindictively. "You wouldn't mind if I cut in would you?" she asked in a sickly sweet voice. Before Claire could answer, she grabbed Derek's hand and shouted,

"JOSH!"

A, in Claire's opinion, very cute Spanish boy appeared through the crowd of dancing students. He was wearing a tux like everyone else, but his tie was loosened and a few buttons undone casually.

"Yes, Massie?" He rolled his eyes wearily. "You called?"

"I'm going to dance with Derek. You can take Clara here and dance with her instead."

"It's Claire," Claire dug her fingers into her palm to stop herself from slapping Massie's overly makeup-ed face.

"Like, whatever," Massie waved a manicured hand and led a grimacing Derek away. Josh watched her go, stuffing his fists into his pockets with a slight smirk on his face. Claire watched too, a slightly hollow feeling forming in her stomach.

"Hey," A soft voice brought her out of her reverie. Josh was looking at her, his licorice colored lips curled up into a smile. "I'm Josh. You must be Claire. Derek never stops talking about you."

"Really?" she almost squeaked.

"Yeah. Now I know why," He gave her a half smile. "You're really pretty."

"Thanks," She looked down at her shoes so he couldn't see her blush.

"Do you want to dance?"

"Sure," she responded much too quickly and he gave her a lopsided grin. His soft hand grabbed hers and they made their way to the center of the floor. It felt much more natural as he placed his hands on her hips. They talked about school, sports, friends, family, and everything in between while they danced.

"So, Joshua Hotz," Claire began, giggling. "You're half Spanish, half Italian, play midfielder on the soccer team, are an Honor Student, have a cocker spaniel named Coco, and have a younger sister named Ariana. Is that everything?"

"Pretty much," He laughed, his dark eyes shining. "And you, Claire Lyons, play volleyball, get insanely good grades, have a younger brother named Todd, love Fall Out Boy more than life itself, your favorite color is blue," He grinned mischievously, "And are totally in love with this total hottie named Josh Hotz."

"What?" She laughed at the last one. "Yeah, you wish."

Josh shrugged.

"What can I say? I'm pretty irresistible," He grinned and shook his head. "Damn, I'm starting to sound like Derek."

Claire felt a slight spasm in her stomach when Derek's name was mentioned but tried to ignore it.

"Hey," Josh started, "You want to blow this place? Let's go somewhere."

"Where? Everywhere is, like, closed right now."

"True," He sighed. "How about just outside? Better than suffocating in here."

"Sounds good," She agreed and followed him through the throng of people. 'I Kissed a Girl' by Katy Perry began to play as they ran through the doors of the school and into the crisp winter air. Goosebumps traveled up Claire's arms. Ignoring her protests, Josh draped his blazer on her bare shoulders and pulled her through the parking lot and onto the nearby football field.

-xoxox-

Derek casually shrugged Massie off as she began to provocatively dance to "This was never the way I planned; Not my intention…" When she arched her dark eyebrow at him, he fanned his face and motioned to the punch table. She looked unsatisfied, but Derek quickly turned and headed over the deserted table. Well, almost deserted, except for a few kids, who even now couldn't hold down a date.

He slowly grabbed a white plastic cup and held up the glitter-glued, plastic ladle from the red punch. Smelling the obvious present alcohol, he grabbed a water bottle from the ice filled cooler. Wouldn't want Claire to think I was drinking… Wait, since when does she matter? This is so messed up.

Leaning against the wooden table, Derek eyed the gymnasium for the familiar dark blue dress and pale blonde hair combo. Where is she? Rolling his eyes, Derek scanned the room for the dark brown hair and tanned skin that belonged to his best friend.

Suddenly, he spotted a flash of white blonde hair disappear out the door, followed by his best friend, who had an idiotic grin plastered on his tanned face.

What the hell does he think he's doing? That's my- His brain stopped instantly before he could finish the thought. He was panicking; no way in hell was Claire going to like Josh better than she liked Derek, not if he could help it. His mind was set on stopping them from getting close. He didn't know why, but the thought of Claire and Josh within two feet of each other made his stomach flip, and his hands immediately curled into fists. Angrily, he stuffed a handful of pretzels into his mouth and chewed furiously. As he washed down the last of the pretzels he found just what he needed.

There, on the table, sat Claire's white clutch.

--

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